i damage you─ beautifully. late evening nurse.
i come with a bloodless adze, glucose meter &
a satchel full of thermometers & ice packs.
i put my fingers in your mouth & record
your temperature. i detect everything;
the hot breath of roof pressing heavily
against your knee & quiet volcano
in the compression of your things.
my knuckles listen to the tussle of your thighs
reddening like the neat of fresh meat.
on its sticky surface, i discover everything.
last night's unrest. of
recalcitrant bodies. two legs hoisted in the air
asking God if they can be like that & still
make prayers clean without
rinsing with bleach. wounds can be eaten
fresh on a woman's body. do not think it;
it is a paradox of an exotic poem. i break
my father's teeth in your groin with my tongue.
do not utter what body cannot hear in rain.
do not curse me with rainbow,
half-sketch hate on my father's glabella & extend
the curve to my chin bone. it is just
a matter of a tennis racket pronated from the back
& the arm is filled with ire. i load an ace &
suspend my head like bat. i hunt him away
from your colony. breathe. breathe.
Gabriel Awuah Mainoo is a Ghanaian creative practitioner & author of 5 books of poetry. Winner of the 2021 Africa Haiku Prize, 2022 Singapore Poetry Prize, 2021 LFP/ RML/ Library of Africa and the African Diaspora chapbook winner & a recipient of the 2022 West Africa Writers Residency.Mainoo’s craft can be found or forthcoming in London Reader, Pairie Fire, SUSPECT, Wales Haiku Journal, EVENT, Africa Haiku Journal among others.